


Oujia Board Blues

by Nugg



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Ghosts, Is there much else to say?, JD is dead and his kids at a party, Other, Party, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10689024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nugg/pseuds/Nugg
Summary: Seventeen years after Jason Dean dies, he comes back to scold his daughter.





	Oujia Board Blues

Parties where absolutely terrible. Tight spaces, horny boys looking for any kind of action. If your sweaty hands found their way to the door knob of the closet, there's a chance someone would be hot-boxing, or fucking. The sweet memories that older people swear is the, 'best time of your lives.'

      Although I don't think a dude making a move on a drunk girl is one of the most desirable times. Watching the guy wearing a letterman jacket try to pull the unconscious teen. One date rape drug away from a ruined life.

      Ah yes... Highschool.

     Even though there where no door knobs, my hands found their way to the perverts chest, shoving him away from the drunk girl, "Yo dude fuck off. She can't consent to that micropenis in your jeans. Go pork someone who's awake." 

     Half expecting an insult. The guy just shrugged staggering away from me. Making me feel good about myself for a moment. My basking short lived as pudgy fingers gripped my shoulders and twisted me around. Squinting against the blacklit room, knowing I should've worn my glasses. I let out a sigh of relief.

     "Harrrrrper!" Vinny Dunnstock, my best friend that I'd lost ages ago slurred, "Come upstairs Harper." 

      I really couldn't say no. One of the two red solo cups in his hands where shoved into mine as he dragged me up the stairs. My eyes traveling to my side as I climbed. People passed out on the hard wooden steps. Making me cringe at the thought of their neck and back pain to come.

     A room with Christmas lights giving off a purple hue; was filled with a circle of kids I barely knew. A wooden board in the center of them. Giving off a huge 'no' to me. I tried to turn around and leave, but Vincent pushed me back in.

     "Ayo Sawyer!" A guy from my advanced English classed raised his beer, causing the rest to follow.

      Just sitting down, legs criss crossed, I too held my cup in the air and joined in the cheer. The liquid spilling all over when we hit the them all together. People not bothered by their alcohol stained clothes, downing the whole damn thing. While I just swished it around, eyeing the drunks as they placed their hands on the  
ill-famous oujia board. 

      This caused me to scootch backwards and take a sip my drink. Knowing full well I wouldn't mess with that crap, and knowing that people would move it themselves. Rather than a 'ghost.'

     I sat, elbows on my knees, and hands under my chin, watching intently. The music from downstairs, and the chatter of zoned out teens was nothing against the situation in front of me. Vinny actually taking part as the group moved the planchette around in three circles.

     "I'll go first." The blonde in a black dress and heavy eyeliner spoke, "Are there any spirits?"

       The triangle inched it's way twords the 'yes' on the board. Dulled looks turned into gawks. Making me roll my eyes at their naive-ness. Believing a peice of wood.

       "May we ask how you died?" Another asked, their glares following the peice as I drank more of the stale beer.

     It moved to 'no' and they all laughed. One person took their hand away and watched just as I was. 

        Vincent chuckled, "Okay, okay. We respect that. But, what is your name?" 

       "J" the pixie cut girl whispered, "D." 

        Advanced English kid raked his fingers through his ashy brown hair sat back, "JD? What- what kind of name is JD?"

      I remembered the blondes name as she spoke, smacking the guy in the chest and scoffing, "Anthony. Don't disrespect the dead. It's rude to judge a ghost you ass." 

       Processing the information I'd just learned, I let the rest of my solo cup empty into my dry throat. I had no idea his name was Anthony. And he looked very offended by her words. Rolling his eyes and getting a very annoyed look plastered on his face.

       "Bailey. I can guarantee this is bullshit. You guys are obviously pushing it. I'm not dumb." The group all looked at him with mouths agape.

       Bored of this already, Vinny placed his hand on the planchette, "Shut up and play," the drunks obediently placed their fingers down and nodded as he asked a question, "Why are you here?"

       My eyes followed closely. Heart dropping as I realized what was being spelled out. Immediately being cold upon the stares coming from everyone. It stopped on R. After spelling Harper.

      "What the fuck." I spat, uncomfortable, "This isn't funny." 

       Without warning it began to move fast across the board, some taking their hands away, "Don't use that tone with me." It emitted, making me frozen, and slightly fearful. 

      "What would Veronica say?" 

        Vincent with hands off the peice looked at me with concern. Knowing anyone else in the room had no idea that, that was my own mothers name. The drawn out spelling process taking ages, some were still processing the letters.

       "Drinking is stupid. I would know." 

      Shaking my head and ignoring the glares, I asked my own question, "Who the fuck are you?" 

      Taking almost a full minute to spell it out, I stood up at, "Your father." 

       I stood up so fast the room started to spin. The board met my foot as I kicked it clear across the room. Heart ready to burst as I flung open the door and bounded down the stairs. Knowing full well I'd stepped on someone's hand. I met the October breeze of the cold Ohio autumn.

       Of course my ride was somewhere in the party, I stared across the street at a shadowy figure as I took out my cell phone. Fingers fidgeting as I found my mom's contact. 

      Dialing tone permitting, I tapped my foot until it stopped, and her voice rang through on the other side, "Hello?" 

        "Mom what the fuck."

       

 

        

      

       

 

    


End file.
